Up in Smoke

by Tessa Bailey

  His hand slipped down the handle and brushed against her skin, wrenching a scream from her throat. Burning. It’s burning. Erin twisted around and brought her boot down hard on his wrist. Once, twice, three times. He howled and dropped the handle, sending her reeling back at the loss of leverage. With the skillet in her hand, she launched herself forward again, meeting him halfway. She hadn’t expected him to charge. He must have seen something in her eyes that told him it was kill or be killed.

  She held the skillet out of his reach, simultaneously bringing her forehead down on his nose in a full-force head butt. The crunch of cartilage echoed in the tiny room. He fell onto his back, holding his bleeding nose, shouting obscenities that were muffled by his hands. Erin came to her feet and loomed over him. This was it. Where she’d always pictured herself when revenge was allowed its fantasy. Standing over his cringing body with all the power in her hand. Power he’d once taken away. All she had to do was bring the object in her hand down on his skull and it would be over. No more wondering when he’d show up to terrorize her. No more threat of being locked away.

  The ever-present matches in her pocket heated against her hip. She could already smell the singular scent the match strike would give off. Sultry. Decadent. So sweet. Crackles and pops sounded in her ears from the blessed fire that could take this all away. Erase it.

  No more Connor. No more friends. No more team.

  If she killed him…if she set fire to this house, those things would be taken away. She would have to run and leave them all behind. Even now, merely by breaking in and assaulting him, she might have damned herself to doing more time. Being put away in an institution. But she could walk away. She didn’t have to do this. There were people who could help her if she just asked.

  What am I doing here? I’m doing nothing. I’m…leaving.

  As soon as she made the decision, it hit her that this is where the true power lay. Walking away. Not giving in to the darkness. Not eliminating her fear, but controlling it.

  “Stay away from me or I’ll come back and finish this.” Her throat felt sunburned. “Do you understand me?”

  He didn’t answer. His chest rose and fell rapidly, hatred pouring off him in waves.

  Erin tossed the skillet onto the washing machine with a loud bang and turned to walk out the back door, but his voice stopped her. “You won’t get away with this.”

  She considered him a moment before sauntering back toward his prone body. He withdrew into himself the closer she got, making her smile. She reeled back with her fist and brought it down once, connecting with his already-damaged nose with all her strength. The blow rendered him unconscious.

  “Tonight I will.”

  Erin closed the side door of the house behind her.

  And ran straight into Connor.

  He didn’t budge an inch or try to steady her with his hands when she bounced right off of him. His hard form stood completely still in the darkness, except for his flexing jaw. Frustration, anger, helplessness was evident in every line of his strong body. His eyes were haunted. She could see that, even in the darkness. They were focused on the bridge of her nose where she could feel a fresh contusion, courtesy of her head butt. She wanted to kneel down in front of him and weep. Apologize. Tell him how much she’d missed him. Beg him not to lose faith in her. Tell him how she’d just overcome the need to do something bad because she couldn’t imagine being without him.

  She couldn’t, though. No. If he was here, he knew who was inside. And if he went inside, he would kill her stepfather. Those were the facts and she had to deal with them. Now. Prevent any such outcome from happening. It would mean her restraint tonight had been for nothing, because if Connor had blood on his hands, he’d have to face the consequences instead of her. He’d have to live with it when he already lived with so much guilt every day of his life. She couldn’t allow him to add to it on her behalf. Couldn’t allow him to be arrested or taken away in cuffs. Or running for his freedom.

  “I was going to come back to you.”

  Still, he said nothing. Didn’t move. Just stared down at her with an unreadable expression.

  She took a step closer to him. “Do you believe me?”

  “No.”

  A pained sound slipped past her lips. Her ribs were caving in. She’d expected his anger, but she hadn’t expected him to lose faith in her. He’d never been emotionless with her, through all the shit she’d thrown at him. She’d always been able to get a read on him, break through. “I’ll convince you. I’ll make you believe me.”

  His attention shot to the door like a whip being cracked. “Is he inside?”

  “Connor, no.” Oh, God. Her worst fears were playing out. She couldn’t stop him when he was like this, could she? Her Connor wasn’t anywhere to be found. Just this stiff, closed-off man who could brush her off like a fly if she tried to prevent him from going inside. “I took care of it. He won’t come after me again.”

  The air around them thinned. “You killed him?”

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  His laugh was dark, unfamiliar. “That’s two lies you’ve told me already tonight.” He focused back on the door. “You’re not a murderer. I know you’re not.”

  I can’t let him go inside. “Take me home. Please.”

  He tried to sidestep her, but she blocked his path. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides. “If you did as you say, let me confirm it. Let me see it with my own eyes.”

  “Don’t. Don’t go in there. It’s not worth it.”

  “You’re worth it.” His voice thundered down at her. “You’re worth four days of hell. Busting into a fucking motel, wondering if I’d find you dead inside. Wondering if I’d see you again. Then finding out you weren’t even there…you were somewhere else when I was not.” A light came on in the neighbor’s yard and he automatically blocked her from its path. He lowered his voice but it was no less furious. “He made you run from me and I want to check the fucker’s pulse. It’s worth knowing that will never happen again. Do you understand me?”

  She battled with the relief that assailed her. Nearly took her to the ground. He still wanted her. At least he still wanted her. “Show me, then. Show me I’m worth it. Trust me now.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t say anything about trust.” He lowered his face just above hers. “After what you’ve put me through, I can’t even trust you not to vanish when I turn my back.”

  He changed directions and started to move past her, sending panic tunneling into her midsection. No. Erin didn’t think, didn’t reason with herself.

  She grabbed both of his hands and laid them on her face.

  It burned like blue fire. It had been so long since someone had touched her face…maybe no one had ever touched her face. If they had, she had no memory of it. It felt like two brands had been applied to her skin. So hot and sharp was the pain that her knees dipped; a scream trapped itself in her throat. But she didn’t let go. She refused to let go. Green eyes bored down into hers, dulling the pain in degrees. He spoke to her, his voice raw, so different from moments ago, but she could barely hear him.

  “I trust you.” Her teeth chattered around the words. “I trust you. See?”

  “Sweetheart…oh God. Stop. Let go. You’re making me hurt you. Please…please.”

  Miraculously, the pain was starting to lessen. Instead of a spiked burn, it turned into a rounded throb…then it dimmed. And dimmed some more. She moved his hands down her throat, marveling at the new sensation. Every new inch encountered a distinct burn, but it eased quicker the farther she went. She focused on his agonized eyes as she dragged them down, down, over her shoulders. Underneath her shirt to caress her belly. Alive. She felt alive. Her nerve endings were singing. Connor. Only Connor could do this to her.

  She must have said it out loud because he choked a curse. “Tell me what it feels like. Tell me I’m not causing you pain. I’m all fucked up right now, Erin. I can’t deal with any more.”

  “Your hands…they’r
e making me real. They feel so perfect. So perfect. Take me home,” she whispered. “I’ll let you touch me everywhere.”

  He dropped his head into the crook of her neck and groaned. “You feel so good. Your skin…” Erin sobbed a breath as he fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around her waist, and buried his face in her belly. “God, I missed you so much.” His hands smoothed up her back and she arched into his touch, needing to feel everything. Every single stroke of his hand. “Now that I’ve had this, touched you, don’t take it away from me. Please don’t take it away from me.”

  “I won’t. I can’t.” His hands swept down her thighs and traced the backs of her knees. A gasp flew from her mouth. Who knew she was so sensitive there? She wanted to stand there all night and let him touch her, let him acquaint his hands with every inch of her body, but time was a limited resource. Luther could stir at any time, and if he walked outside, it would be over in seconds. Connor wouldn’t hesitate to act, and this beautiful moment would be lost to them.

  Connor rose slowly to his feet, dragging his open mouth up the center of her body as he went. As soon as his face was even with hers, she captured his mouth with a kiss. She swayed into him with a moan and took. She’d seen him aroused before, but nothing compared to this. His erection dug into her belly, hard and demanding. Hands tunneled through her hair, making up for lost time as he seduced her with his tongue. Her primary goal of getting him away from the house blurred, but she snatched it back. She was fighting for their lives and needed to remember that.

  Erin pulled away and sucked in a fortifying breath. “Let’s leave.” She smoothed a hand over one side of his perfect ass and tugged him against her, twisting her hips at the same time. “I need you.”

  He closed his eyes and cursed. “I know what you’re doing. I know you’re using my goddamn need for you to keep me out of that house. Even knowing I’m being played, I still can’t fight it.”

  Before she could form a single word of protest, he swung her up into his arms and started toward the street. Tears pushed against the back of her eyelids, scalding and heavy. His words hurt worse than the initial burn of his touch. He’d belittled what they’d just shared, disregarding it as a ploy. She wanted to curl up and live within the hurt because crawling out required too much effort. She knew hurt. They were old friends, whereas hope was a newcomer, twice as dangerous.

  Connor stopped in front of his navy-blue SUV and flung open the door, placing her inside. He started to buckle her seat belt, but stopped when she tensed. He closed the door and rounded the back of the car. Her gaze followed him, noting that the destroyed back window had been covered with plastic. His silhouette halted at the back of the car, illuminated by the streetlight. Hands planted on hips, he hung his head a moment, body momentarily deflating of tension. For a moment, she thought he might leave her in the car and go back to the house, but she breathed a sigh of relief when he climbed into the driver’s side and started the engine.

  He started to put on his seat belt, but stopped, letting it whoosh back into the strap holder, leaving himself unbuckled like her. When he spoke, he didn’t look at her. “If something happens to one of us, it happens to both now, Erin.”

  Her fingers flew to her throat, placing pressure over the sudden tightness. She couldn’t form a single word on the drive home, but it didn’t stop her from thinking. This distrust between them, distrust she’d caused, would need to be repaired. Letting him touch her hadn’t worked, obviously. Even though she’d laid herself achingly bare, he still thought she’d planned to run away and never look back. That she’d been using his attraction to her against him.

  She had one last card to play, though. Even if it might kill her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Connor prowled the kitchen, refusing to take his gaze off the bathroom door. On the other side, he could hear the shower running, knew Erin was in there, but having her gone from his sight so soon was like having a reprieve from death snatched away. She’d been silent on the ride home. God knows he hadn’t been in a chatty mood with a combination of raging lust and reticent fear lacing through his insides, but when she’d walked into the bathroom without a word, alarm had been thrown into the mix. When he thought of the blood on her face, her disheveled appearance, his vision sparked with red. It took considerable effort to calm down enough to wonder just what she’d been through. The last four days had been hell for him, but he was more concerned with what they had been like for her. It had happened on his watch. Anything that happened to her, any threat she encountered, was his responsibility. As chauvinistic as it sounded, he couldn’t rid himself of an instinct this strong.

  Right now, his instinct was telling him to kick open the bathroom door and fuck her screaming against the tiled shower wall. It was telling him to bandage her cut, dress her, put something substantial in her stomach. Not performing those tasks was causing him physical discomfort. How long did it take to shower, anyway?

  He spun on a heel toward the fridge and took out the carton of orange juice, pouring it into a glass just as the bathroom door opened behind him. Steam curled out, appearing to carry her out the door in slow motion. Oh, holy fuck. She was naked. Naked and dripping with water. Skin flushed from her shower…every inch of her glowed rosily. Temptation on two gorgeous legs. The orange juice slipped from his hands and landed on the floor, liquid gushing from the plastic cup, but he didn’t even pay it a glance. He wanted to go to her, but his legs wouldn’t move. Her lips spread into a tremulous smile as she turned and swayed toward the bedroom, her ass so delectable it set his teeth on edge.

  He now had the ability to touch her. Jesus. It almost didn’t seem real that he should have such a privilege. But had he earned it? Was she really ready? Or was she trying to keep him distracted when he needed to be hunting down someone who could potentially harm her?

  Whatever her motive, his willpower still refused to make an appearance. His cock pressed against the fly of his jeans so insistently, he had to reach down and lower the zipper. A groan fell from his mouth as his hard length bobbed free. He could be inside her tonight without keeping his hands out of the equation. It was a heady thought, but also a worrisome one. Taking away the use of his hands had been a way to guarantee he didn’t push too far. Didn’t succumb to the driving urge to pin her, dominate her. They might have overcome a huge obstacle, but his darker tastes hadn’t yet been addressed. After days of not knowing if he’d see her again, he didn’t know if he could keep himself in check. If he went too far and injured her progress, he’d die inside.

  Unable to wait a second more, knowing she was in the bedroom naked, warm, wet, Connor strode after her. He gripped his cock and stroked as he went, something he hadn’t allowed himself in days, even when the pressure mounted or thoughts of Erin’s perfect touch bombarded him. He’d made her a promise and he intended to keep it. When he walked into the bedroom, the scene that greeted him drew him up short.

  Christ. Jesus Christ. He could hear his pulse in his ears, banging like a steel drum. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Erin lay faceup on the bed, her wrists wrapped in silk above her head. The yellow silk belt from her bathrobe? The makeshift restraint had been tied around a wooden slat in the headboard, restraining her. Connor almost went to his knees for a second time that night, but her shallow breaths wouldn’t allow him to succumb to the driving need. No, he couldn’t want her like this. Wrong. It was wrong.

  Oh, but he fucking did. Here was his ultimate fantasy brought to life. She looked spectacular, palm-sized breasts pointed straight up in the cool air, her stomach pulled taut. The things he could do to her like this. She’d cry out and try to get free, but it would be up to him.

  Bastard. Think about what you’re considering. Think. He didn’t want her to ever hurt again, but she was doing it now on his behalf. A sacrifice. The ultimate apology. Giving away the freedom she required to keep her very sanity. All for him.

  No, he couldn’t let her do it. He wouldn’t.

  H
is willpower seconds from snapping in two, he climbed onto the bed on his knees, leaning over her to undo the bonds. When she licked her lips at his approach, wrists flexing in the restraint, Connor growled. “What are you trying to prove, Erin? Goddammit.”

  “That I’m not leaving again.” Her voice was surprisingly strong considering the way her body trembled. This wasn’t easy for her. Or him. Definitely not him. He was starving for her, and she was offering herself up to him on a silver platter. Need her. Need her so bad. “I’m giving myself to you. I’m yours. I won’t go away again unless you make me.”

  His heart felt like it might jump from his chest. “Make you leave?” he shouted. “I’ve been miserable with you gone.”

  “Show me.” She shifted on the bed to glide her legs around his hips. Fuck. Her damp, naked pussy was mere inches from his aching cock. He could already hear the needy little sobs she’d make as he thrust into her heat, over and over. Could feel her knees wedged against his palms as pushed her legs wide to get deeper, ride her harder. She must have seen his resolve slipping because her energy changed. Right before his eyes, she went from sacrificial lamb to seductress. Her back bowed under his hungry gaze, displaying her tits for him like a prize to be won. She touched her tongue to her top lip and let it linger as she writhed on the bed. “Will you kiss me between my legs, baby? Please?”

  His world imploded. There was no more self-control to draw from. If she were showing even a fraction of uncertainty, he could have held back. As it was, she was looking up at him like a sexually deprived siren desperate for a hard fucking. His world turned a gritty shade of sepia, power roaring past his barriers and running wild. Dominate her. She’s begging you for it.

  Almost casually, he slipped his fingers into her hair, smiling as she purred under the touch. Both of them sucked in a breath as his fingers went tight, gripping her hair in an iron fist. That’s it. I’m lost. “The next time you instruct me on how to please you, I will deny that request until you’re willing to give up everything to have it granted.”